


Dapper

by serpentinne



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Jealous Hannibal, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:11:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serpentinne/pseuds/serpentinne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, I see," she grinned.  "Doctor Lecter's got super fancy pants and you think that your pants should also be fancy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dapper

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic ever. What has this show done to me.

Beverly Katz was alone in the lab. She leaned over the table, close enough to examine the glass shards in the patrie dish, but not close enough to contaminate the evidence with her breath. She sensed, rather than heard, a presence behind her. She turned around to find Will standing in the doorway, clearly unsure as to whether or not he should enter the room.  
  
"Hey, creeper. What're you doing just standing there like that?" she asked with a grin.  
  
"Oh, I uh - sorry, I wanted to talk to you, but you were concentrating."  
  
"It's fine." She leaned back against the table and crossed her arms. "What's up?"  
  
Will stepped into the lab, hands in his pockets. "I was wondering if I could ask a favour."  
  
"Sure," she lifted her chin in the air, "shoot."  
  
Will held his eyes closed for a second. Whether from nerves about what he was about to ask or the possible connotation of her words, Beverly couldn't tell. He rummaged around the pocket of his field jacket and pulled out an off-white envelope with an address written in an elegant hand. Beverly took the envelope from his fingers, finding it had previously been opened. It was well-worn, as if it had been carried around in a pocket for an extended period of time. That was, in fact, just what Will had done.  
  
Beverly removed a card from the envelope, also off-white, with red filigree border. She read aloud, "You are cordially invited to attend a dinner party at the home of Hannibal Lecter on 25th May 2013 at 6:00 p.m. Huh," she held the card between the fingers of her right hand, "so you lookin' for a date, or what?"  
  
"No," Will swallowed, "sorry. The thing is that I RSVP-ed already and I...I don't know how to go about the whole dinner party thing. It all seems pretty...fancy."  
  
"Oh, I see," she grinned. "Doctor Lecter's got super fancy pants and you think that your pants should also be fancy."  
  
"Yes, exactly. Well, no, not quite as fancy as his. I don't think I could pull that off."  
  
Beverly handed the beaten card back to Will and eyed him, appraising. "The party's tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah, I know. I got the invitation a week ago and I've been putting off thinking about it."  
  
 _"Right,"_ Beverly thought, _"that's why you've been carrying the invitation around in your pocket all week, rubbing it like a worry stone."_ She grinned like the Cheshire Cat.  
  
"I'm just finishing up here, and then we're gonna go sort out your hair. Sound good?" She nodded and turned back to the table, covering the petrie dish.  
  
"Uh, sure. You seem keen."  
  
"Are you kidding? Girls love this shit. First we gotta sort your hair out. My sister works at a salon downtown; I 'll bring you to her. She's gonna _love_ you."

 

  


Will, in his nervous energy, had managed to arrive a good half an hour early. He hadn't realised the time until he was standing on Hannibal's porch, having already rang the doorbell. He peeked at his watch for something to do while waiting for the door to open, and clenched his teeth at his mistake. Maybe he'd driven faster than normal.  
  
The door swung open to a comparatively underdressed Doctor Lecter. The lack of waistcoat and sportcoat took will by surprise, never having seen the doctor in shirtsleeves. The doctor, too, seemed taken by surprise at Will's appearance.  
  
Beverly's sister had taken a considerable amount of hair from his head, the sides nearly buzzed and the top annointed with an inch a half of glossy curls. His face was clean-shaven for the first time since Will-couldn't-remember-when. His wardrobe, too, seemed to have recovered spectacularly fast from the seemingly endless khaki-brown and flannel daydream it was wont to stumble through.  
  
After a long pause, Will answered Hannibal's _"Good evening, Will"_ with an _"Oh, hi. Hey."_ Hannibal smiled. The awkwardness - that was Will's own.

 

  


"I hope you don't mind; I was just preparing the salad," Hannibal said as he rounded the kitchen island and tied an apron around himself.  
  
"It's fine." Will set the bottle of wine on the counter and perched on one of the bar stools. "Sorry I'm early."  
  
"My home is always open to friends. Especially one I wasn't sure would accept my invitation."  
  
"I'm not sure I'll make very good company," Will grimaced.  
  
"I disagree." Hannibal looked up from the tomato he was slicing. "As someone who has spent time in your company, I can ensure that it is quite pleasurable."  
  
A hint of colour bloomed behind Will's cheeks where it would have normally been obscured by facial hair. Hannibal thought of biting through to the red prize underneath.

 

  


The meal was over and guests were now mingling in the parlour. Will wanted desperately to leave. He leaned against the wall on the far side of the room, hoping to blend in with the wallpaper. He popped open the top button of his shirt and hoped his overheating was due more to nerves than to the wine he'd been trying not to sip too steadily. He'd been lucky enough that Hannibal had seated him to his left during dinner, but said host now had mingling obligations.  
  
Alana approached with a young blonde man in tow. "Hey there. Haven't gotten to say 'hi,' you were seated so far away." Alana had, indeed, been seated as far from Will as she could have been. "This is Daniel," she gestured to the impeccably dressed 30-whatever.  
  
"Hello," Will gave a small, pained smile, looking off into the distance.  
  
"I'm going to go for another glass," Alana shook her not-empty wine glass between her fingers and promptly excused herself.  
  
"So." Blonde Guy rocked forward on his feet. "I hear you're also from the _deep South_ ," he affected a low drawl on the last words.  
  
"Yes," Will nodded, "Louisiana, Mississippi."  
  
"I'm from Mississippi." The man grinned impossibly wide and placed his hand lightly on Will's forearm. Will froze.  
  
"'Course, you can't tell," Blonde Guy continued. "It sounds like you dropped the 'ole accent too. So much easier that way."  
  
Over the man's shoulder Will spotted Hannibal, who also seemed to be seeking solace from his present conversation.  
  
Will moved his arm away. "I'm sorry," he apologised, his mouth dry. "I have to go for some air."  
  
"No problem," the man placed his hand on Will's right shoulder, "I'll catch you later."  
  
Instead of going out for air, Will saught momentary solitude on the settee in the lux bathroom. _No music, no people. No music, no people._ He splashed cold water on his face and observed himself in the mirror, trying to assess whether or not he was becoming intoxicated. He'd prefer to remain relatively sober. Though, if more wine was what it would take to handle random people trying to touch him, then he'd do what he had to.

 

  


No sooner had he returned to the room than an older woman, this one a friend of Hannibal's from the opera, he could tell, sidled up to him and threaded her arm through his.  
  
"Hello dear, you look lost." Her voice seemed to be made of smoke.  
  
"Not particularly," Will deadpanned.  
  
"Ah, there you are Hannibal. You must introduce me to this delightful young man."  
  
"Of course," Hannibal smiled tightly. "Justine, this is my friend and colleague, Will Graham. Will, this is Justine Komeda, a novelist and patron of the arts."  
  
"Oh, isn't it silly how you throw a little money at something and suddenly you're a patron?" she giggled.  
  
Will had to allow a small smile for that. Hannibal's gaze flickered to the pair's linked arms, returning his lips to the pursed, but cordial position.  
  
Mrs. Komeda sighed dramatically. " _But_ , sometimes throwing money around is necessary, I'm afraid. It gets lonely at my age, you know. I've no shortage of money, but absolutely no one to spend it on. It's such a shame." Her hand snaked up Will's bicep. He sputtered into his wine.  
  
"Well," Hannibal clasped his hands together in front of him, "I'm afraid this is where the evening must end."  
  
Will ripped his gaze away from the space just to the right of Doctor Lecter's head and looked about the room. They were, in fact, the only guests left. Panic rose in Will's throat as he recalled a similar situation he'd found himself in during high school - unwillingly linked to a keen female stranger at the end of the evening.  
  
"Oh, yes, it is rather late, isn't it?" Mrs. Komeda unwound her arms from Will's. "It was so nice to meet you, my dear. If you ever find yourself looking for the company of an old woman, do please seek me out."  
  
"I'll get your coat," Hannibal interjected and gestured for the woman to follow him to the entrance room.  
  
Will stood awkwardly in the center of the parlour, unsure if he was also being dismissed. He decided he should return his glass to the kitchen, nevertheless. He made his way down the hall, overhearing Hannibal, _"You wouldn't happen to have your card on you? In case my good friend does want to you contact you."_  
  
"Oh, of course Hannibal, let me..."  
  
A shiver went down Will's spine. _"Squick,"_ he thought, and felt slightly guilty. He hoped Hannibal wouldn't suggest he actually consider becoming some rich old woman's sugar baby.

 

  


"Let me help you clean up," he offered when the doctor found him leaning against the sink, clearly unsure of what to do. Hannibal nodded slowly, a small smile on his face.  
  
They washed dishes side by side in silence, Hannibal scrubbing and Will rinsing.  
  
"I see you met Daniel."  
  
"Yeah, he seemed," Will fished for an inoffensive word, "...friendly."  
  
"It's not surprising that you garned much attention this evening. You look particularly nice."  
  
Will looked away, flushing slightly. "Thanks, I...I had some help."  
  
A pause hung in the air. "I should thank them," Hannibal let his fingers brush against Will's wrist as he handed him a freshly-scrubbed plate, lingering there for a moment.  
  
"I swear, one of these days William."

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to whoever on tumblr I jacked the last line from. I couldn't not. 
> 
> It was from a comic sans comic. Can't find link, please send help.


End file.
